


got you shackled in my embrace (could I lock in your love, baby?)

by EastFromEden



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Everything Nice Like Sugar And Spice, F/M, Holiday Cheer, handcuffs being used in a non police related manner, ho ho HO, pure comedy, smutmas, so sweet it will give you diabetes, very smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 07:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EastFromEden/pseuds/EastFromEden
Summary: Tessa lost a bet she didn't think she would lose and it's got her all tied up better than a Christmas present.akaPrompt: “I lost a bet to you and the circumstances were supposed to be a joke but I took them seriously” sex.Day 6 of smutmas, part of thegot my love to keep me warmChristmas collaboration.





	got you shackled in my embrace (could I lock in your love, baby?)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Whatever, it's RPF. You clicked on it. You knew what you were getting into. I'm not apologizing for it anymore.
> 
> The title of this story comes from Sam Smith's _Latch_.
> 
> Writing is a team sport, thank you to ALL the people who helped me with this: Ana, Angie, Becca, Cheyenne, Chrissy, Daisy, Jess, Thérèse, and the whole Writers' Guild GC in general.
> 
> I'm reposting this on its own because the  collab  is locked and some people were asking for it. So there it is. Enjoy.

If someone were to ask Tessa how she got herself in that particular situation, she would be able to say with perfect honesty that she has no fucking clue.

But here she is.

Naked

Handcuffed.

To Scott.

(Who's also naked)

In bed (all wrapped around each other)

On Christmas morning.

Because she lost a bet.

*

"We don't have to do this," Scott tells her, dangling a pair of police grade stainless steel handcuffs in her face and looking as cocky as he feels.

"A bet is bet," she says, her jaw set in pure determination. "Where did you even find these?"

His smirk lifts one corner of his mouth higher. "Trust me. You don't wanna know."

"Scott! I'm not putting on a pair of handcuffs you used in your kinky sex games. Did you sanitize them at least?" she scrunches up her nose.

He raises a brow in her direction. "Who do you take me for?" he asks, faking offense. "Last chance to back out, Virtch," he teases.

"Who do you take _me_ for, Moir?" she says, poking his chest with an accusatory finger.

"Do you need to go to the bathroom or to get changed?" he checks. "Because once these are on, all of that is going to be very difficult."

She looks down at her red silk blouse, green cashmere cardigan and jeans. "I'm good," she says. "Let's do this."

He takes her left hand in his right, like they do every time they step on the ice, and puts the cuffs on her before closing them on his own wrist. "There we go, shackled in my embrace, babe."

She arches a brow at his bad pun and raises her hand to observe the new unfamiliar accessory making Scott's raise right along with it. "I can already tell this is going to be _so much_ fun."

"You were the one saying you could never live with me," he points out. "Joke's on you, eh?" he laughs.

She shakes her head and sighs. "So, the usual? _Home Alone_ followed by _The Holiday_ accompanied by massive amounts of popcorn?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah…about that. I need to go the mall so really it's more like _we_ need to go the mall."

Her eyes narrows. "What do you mean you need to go to the mall? It's Christmas Eve!"

His eyes twitch and he rubs his hands. "I have some shopping to do…"

"It's Christmas _Eve_ ," she repeats pointedly.

"I know…" he says, sheepish. "I'm sorry."

"Scott!" she cries out, waving her hands around, making the cuffs rattle. "We can't go out in public like that! We can't go to a toy store like that! We'll get thrown out!"

"It's gonna be okay, kiddo," he promises. "There'll be so many people no one will notice."

"I need some wine for this," she huffs.

"I'll get you a glass," he says, walking to the kitchen, forgetting about the handcuffs for a split second making her yelp and stumble behind him.

"And how are you going to do that with one hand, genius?" she sighs.

He raises his hand to open a cupboard making hers hit the wood loudly. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"Let me use my right hand," she tells him, taking out a balloon glass.

Getting the bottle open is a whole different ball game.

"Hold the bottle!"

"I am!"

"No you're not, it's slipping from me when I try to uncork it! HOLD IT!"

"I AM!"

"Hold it tighter then!"

"Gimme that corkscrew and YOU hold the bottle!"

"I just want a drink."

"We cannot be this bad at this! You backflipped on my face! It's just a bottle of wine! Teamwork…"

"Makes the dream work. Okay, let's do this!"

"Sit down on the couch. I'm putting the bottle between your thighs and you better squeeze it tightly!"

"Shut up, I'm squeezing!"

"Don't move!"

"I'm not!"

"Squeeze!"

"I AM SQUEEZING!"

And finally, a pop.

"Thank fuck! Pour me a glass," she says, holding it out under his nose. "All the way to the brim."

"Tess…"

"It's gonna be a long day. Pour until you can't anymore."

"That's half the bottle, babe."

"Did I somehow stutter and not realize it? Pour!"

"I'm going to need a glass too, I think…"

"Why did we think this was going to be fun?"

*

_Marseille is beautiful at night as they walk the streets with their teammates to find a nice bar to hang out on their last night there after a victorious Grand Prix Final. Tessa now regrets wearing high heels; the cobblestones of the old part of town are slippery and she has to cling to Scott's arm for dear life._

_"Do you want a piggyback ride?" he asks her for the tenth time. "You're holding me really tight."_

_"Do you want me to break a leg? Don't be a baby, it's not that tight," she retorts as the leather sole of her Valentinos slips on marble once again._

_"That's it," he says firmly. "Take off your shoes or I'll take them off myself." The intensity of his eyes on hers tells her he's serious about it too._

_They all end up in a hipster bar on Quai de la Joliette where their tentative French manages to get them all a round of microbrews which Eric brings to their booth. Scott, carrying her heels in one hand and her whole body on his back, plops her down carefully on one of the velvet couches. He slides in next to her and gathers her legs on his lap so her feet won't touch the sticky wooden floor._

_Meagan shakes her head. "You're one step away from being legally married," she laughs and Tessa and Scott watch all their friends give them snarky smiles._

_"He's just being nice," Tessa shrugs as she feels his hands massage her calves._

_"He's being a good hubby and he knows it," Patrick smirks._

_"I'm being a good partner," Scott corrects. "She's of no use to me with a broken tailbone, or worse, a leg," he says, giving her a pointed look._

_"Please," Meagan continues. "I don't know why you're not living it up together, like Kaitlyn and Andrew, to streamline this whole comeback process," she snickers, looking pointedly at the other ice dance team currently hogging the small bowl of peanuts._

_"We could never live together," Tessa protests and Scott's head immediately snaps in her direction. "We would murder each other, we're such different people."_

_"I feel like what you're really saying is that you would murder me," Scott grumbles._

_"Now, don't go putting words in my mouth," she defends herself, a smirk on her lips. "I'm not saying this is what I meant, but I'm not not saying it either," she laughs._

_"Drink your beer," he mumbles, pinching her leg under the table._

_"So," Tessa says halfway through her pint. "Should we go bowling after this?"_

_Scott groans. "Not this again, Tess."_

_"I'm down for bowling," Eric says enthusiastically._

_"Me too," Kaetlyn chirps in._

_"Me three," Patrick adds._

_"Come on!" Scott whines. "I'm exhausted. I just want to lay on my bed and sleep for twelve hours straight."_

_"Come on!" Tessa repeats back to him. "Please? It's our last night here."_

_"Tess," he says, looking at her with an intensity he usually saves for the ice. "I'm dead on my feet." She gets the meaning behind his words and his eyes. This comeback has not been easy on him, physically or emotionally. He's still deeply shaken up about what happened to one of his best friends in November._

_She lays a hand on his. "It's France," she pleads, stroking his fingers. "Please? For me? It'll be fun, I promise."_

_He can't refuse her anything when she looks at him with those gorgeous green doe eyes of hers. "Urgh," he groans. "Fine…but if I'm going to haul ass there, you gotta up the stakes, kiddo," he smiles, eyes twinkling with mirth._

_"What do you have in mind?" she says, almost daring him._

_"A bet," he says, rubbing his hands together like a movie villain._

_She cocks a brow at him. "State your terms."_

_"If I lose, I'll have to eat, well drink, eggnog and only eggnog for Christmas Eve dinner, but… if you lose, you'll have to spend Christmas Eve handcuffed to me for the whole day."_

_The rest of their teammates can be heard dissolving into fits of laughter._

_"What kind of terms are those?" she protests._

_"You were the one who said you could never live with me lest you murder me. I'm just going to enjoy every minute of trying to prove you wrong," he laughs, poking the tip of her nose with a finger._

_Competition shines fierce in her eyes. "You've got yourself a deal!" she says, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight. She's never lost a bowling game. She's got this in the bag._

_The game goes horribly wrong._

_She doesn't understand what's happening._

_None of her balls go through. Her arms are shaky, her legs are all wrong, her fingers feel like lead in the holes, her legendary focus is going down the drain. And Scott's constant cackling of 'is that all you got Virtch?' from the sidelines is not helping matters._

_She loses._

_By a (very) large margin._

_He ends up on top, celebrating like he's just won the best prize in the whole world._

_Fuck._

*

Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve in London's busiest mall while being handcuffed to your best friend/skating/business partner goes swimmingly well.

"Bend your knees," he says as he tries to reach the overly pink board game his niece has dutifully put on her list which currently rests on the bottom shelf.

"If you tell me to bend my knees one more time, I swear to fucking Christ, I will shove a stuffed unicorn up your ass," she mumbles. 

"You're such a peach today," he grins.

"I am handcuffed. To you. In a toy store. Surrounded by a million people," she replies, insisting on every word.

"You're usually a lot more easy going," he notes.

"I usually don't have half a liter of wine sloshing around on an empty stomach," she points out.

"That's fair," he grants her.

"We're going to get arrested," she tells him. "We're going to get arrested on Christmas Eve, it's going to end up on the news and your mom will have to post bail. We're never going to compete ever again."

"Aren't you just a tad dramatic when you've been drinking?" he laughs.

"I hate you," she grumbles.

"No you don't," he keeps on laughing. "Come on babe, do your bit, bend your knees please so I can reach this game without dislocating my wrist?" he asks gently.

She bends her knees and both their hands put the game in the cart.

"That's it," he placates her. "Teamwork."

She storms off to the Lego aisle dragging Scott behind her, handcuffs rattling and feet shuffling.

"We need to work on our synchronicity," Scott suggests, rubbing his reddened wrist. "We never have that problem on ice. There's no reason this shouldn't work off of it."

"Whatever you say," she mutters, looking at Scott's gift list and putting some Star Wars and Batman Legos in their cart.

He grabs her shoulder and turns her to face him. "Okay," he smiles softly. "How about you lean _into_ this instead of fighting it at every corner? It's gonna be a lot smoother."

"Why are you so… happy and joyful?" she asks, her nose twitching in the most adorable way. "It's getting irritating."

He engulfs her in a one-armed hug, cradling her head into the crook of his neck, and strokes her hair. "Deep breaths. Lean into this. I'm with my favorite person and this whole thing is hilarious," he says in his best soothing tone.

She relaxes into his embrace and a smile graces her lips. "You're so annoying," she says, her voice betraying the fondness she feels.

He pulls away first. "Okay, here's how we're going to go about this. No more dragging me around, no more stumbling behind. We're just gonna hold hands the whole time, it'll feel more natural to us," he says, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers.

"Okay, now that you're done being a sap," she tells him, squeezing his hand tight nonetheless. "We need to get going, you have like twenty things on this list."

It gets easier. They get into a good rhythm and it almost feels like when they're skating together. It requires the same skills after all. Tessa hasn't yet murdered him or all the cashiers with their overly friendly voices, their needless help, and their conspicuous looks.

"This is going to be a pain to get in the trunk," Tessa sighs, looking at all the shopping bags at their feet. "We barely got into the car in the first place," she says, thinking back to how she had to get in first, through the driver's door — bumping her head on the ceiling and her knees on the gearshift — so he could slide in after her.

"I thought we managed that quite well actually," he says proudly. "You are very flexible after all. Okay now, one, two, three… knees," he says as they bend down at the same time so they can both carry the bags. 

"I never want to hear the word knees ever again in my entire life," she mutters.

"You are _so_ grumpy," he laughs. "Come on, we're going to Aritzia," he says, steering them toward the store.

Christmas music is booming through the speakers. Tessa has already heard _Deck the Halls_ twenty times today and she's about ready to stick boughs of holly in her eardrums to make it stop.

" _Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la,_ " Scott sings along obnoxiously as he tries to find a nice blouse and a scarf — Tessa's suggestion — for his sisters-in-law. " _Don we now our gay apparel, fa la la la la la._ "

"For the love of God, will you shut _up_?" she says, pinching the bridge of her nose, hitting herself in the face with his hand.

" _FOLLOW ME IN MERRY MEASURE, FA LA LA LA LA LA_ ," he sings a little louder, pulling her closer and kissing her temple. 

"You know what? I need to pee," she says, yanking on his wrist as soon as he's done paying. "So please uncuff me."

"I don't have the key," he tells her.

Her head snaps in his direction. "Excuse me?"

"I don't have the key, T. I asked you before I handcuffed us if you needed to go to the bathroom and you said no."

"What do you mean you don't have the key? Why would you leave it at home? What if something happened and we needed to get them off?"

"The bet said handcuffed for twenty-four hours. I'm taking this seriously."

"I drank _half_ a fucking liter of _wine_ , you idiot. I need to pee."

"I'll come with you."

"You're not coming with me."

"I don't see you having a choice in the matter."

"I'm not peeing in front of you."

"Okay, your choice."

"I need to pee."

"Then, let's go. I don't mind."

"As soon as I get both my hands back, I'm choking you with them."

"You're so dramatic."

"You're listening to music and you're turning around."

"Of course."

"We're going to get arrested." 

"No we're not."

"Yeah we are. As soon as they see us going in the same bathroom together."

"It will be fine."

"No, it won't. We're going to get charged with public indecency and we'll have to explain why to our mothers and Canada."

"Tess. Just go pee."

When they get to the most secluded bathroom they can find, no one is there and Tessa could weep with joy. They squish themselves into the small stall and it's a lot more cramped than they expected. Their faces are so close they can feel each other's breaths on their lips. It smells like wine and cinnamon.

"Help me with my belt and my zipper please."

His hand grazes her warm silky skin as she wiggles her jeans off.

"You put on your Christmas panties with a tree and snow and everything."

"Shut up."

"Does your bra match?"

" _SHUT UP!_ "

"I'm just saying, it's cute."

"Turn around and put your earphones in."

The Tragically Hip starts playing so loud Tessa can hear his music.

She can't believe her bladder is being shy right now.

She closes her eyes. It's just Scott. He's listening to music. Breathe. Just pee.

"Are you done?" he yells over the music. 

"OH MY FUCKING GOD SHUT UP!" she yells back.

She will murder him.

It takes her a good five minutes before she can actually starts peeing and be done with it. When he feels the cuff moves, he turns back around and watches her slip her jeans back on.

"Did you have performance anxiety?"

"I'm considering breaking off our partnership right now, just so you know."

"You know that at some point today, we're both going to have to poop, right?"

"Take me home."

"I'm not done shopping."

"I don't care. You can tell your brothers my gifts for them are from the both of us. I want to go home."

"Okay babe," he says, pulling her against him. "We're going home."

They end up curled up on her couch, watching _Home Alone,_ snuggled in her biggest cashmere afghan.

"Your family is never going to let us live this down," she says, nuzzling into his chest.

"Probably not," he laughs and she can feel it reverberate through his ribcage.

"Stroke my hair," she tells him.

"I can't," he says. "We have the handcuffs on."

"I hate this."

"I know," he says, kissing the top of her head.

"Okay," she relents. "It's not so bad now."

*

His brothers haven't stopped laughing at him — at them really — ever since they crossed the threshold of the Moir's family house. His cousins are nicer, they're just throwing them odd looks and rolling their eyes, an improvement Tessa would say.

They're in the middle of sorting out this 'getting out of their coats thing' when Scott feels a little tug on his jeans. "Mommy," his niece says, looking back between her uncle and his mother, eyes wides and mouth open, "why are Uncle Scott and Auntie T. attached together?"

Danny and Charlie dissolve in laughter, their bodies bending over the couch.

Nicole shakes her head and sighs deeply. "That's just a game sweetie," she says in her best mom voice.

"That's not a game," Charlie mutters. "It's foreplay…"

"Charlie!" his wife chides him, hitting him on the shoulder.

"Scotty and Auntie T. are just weird like that baby girl," Charlie laughs.

"Charlie!" Scott yells. He gets down to get on the same eye level as hers, pulling Tessa right along with him, almost making her trip on the carpet. "I won a bet, Queenie."

Quinn looks between them, puzzled. "You don't look like you won anything," she says after a few seconds.

Tessa tucks a stray strand of hair behind Quinn's ear. "I lost a game of bowling to Uncle Scott," she explains to her. "This is my punishment. You don't think I'll get cooties, do you?"

Quinn shakes her head swiftly. "Uncle Scott is nice," she assures her.

"Good," Tessa smiles, before getting up — dragging Scott up with her — and faces Alma, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on her apron. "We brought wine," she tells her. "Scott," she says, squeezing his wrist softly. "Give the bottle to your mom, please."

"What the…?" Alma stops herself short of cursing, looking between their joined wrists.

Scott kisses his mother's cheeks and hands her the bottle. "We brought red cause Tessa drank all the white," he says, earning himself a dark glare from Tessa. "Merry Christmas, Mom."

"It's Christmas Eve," Alma says, looking between the both of them. "What kind of shenanigans are you up to?" She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

"It was Scott's idea of a bet," Tessa says, throwing him under the bus.

"Scotty!" Alma reprimands him.

"Teach Tessa how to throw a strike," he laughs. "Then I would have drunk eggnog the whole night."

"Do I wanna know?" Alma tuts.

"No, you don't," Tessa smiles softly.

Eating their turkey, mashed potatoes drowned in gravy, green beans, and cranberry pie is surprisingly easier than they would have assumed — their elbows and forearms keep grazing each other, but their forks and knives are synchronized like their blades are on the ice.

"If my kids end up drawing you two with handcuffs on, I'm suing for emotional damages AND tattling on you to your Fed," Danny, warns waving a dessert-laden spoon in their direction.

"It's kinda growing on me," Scott admits, rubbing his wrist.

"It's not that bad," Tessa says at the same time.

Charlie shakes his head. "Of course you two fuckers would say that."

"You're reaching alarming levels of codependency," Cara sighs.

"We are not!" Scott jumps to defend himself.

Danny gives him a pointed look. "Where are you sleeping tonight?" he asks, cocking a knowing brow.

"We have to stay handcuffed until 10 am tomorrow," Scott says.

"Awfully convenient those handcuffs…" Cara mutters.

"Where were you today at 10 am and all day?" Charlie piles on. 

"I don't see what that has anything to do with this," Scott mumbles.

"Where were you last night?" Cara carries on.

"We're opening presents and then we're leaving. You guys are _bullies_ ," Scott says, finishing his pie.

"You guys are _weirdos_ ," Danny says. "You deserve to be roasted."

"You have nothing to say?" Scott says, turning to Tessa. "Take our side!"

"We're handcuffed at your parents' Christmas Eve dinner," Tessa sighs. "We have no excuse."

The whole table bursts into laughter and keeps on teasing them mercilessly until plates are empty and bellies are full. Soon everyone moves to the living room and it erupts in an explosion of cheers, wrapping papers, cardboard boxes, bows, ribbons, and loud excited cries.

"Bad news," Scott says after a few hours spent laying on the couch and watching his nieces and nephews play with all the Legos they gave them. "I have to go to the bathroom."

She raises a single brow. "You have to go the bathroom or go the _bathroom_?"

"The latter, I'm afraid."

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs so deeply he's afraid her lungs are collapsing. "Let's go." 

"Think about how much closer our relationship will be after this."

"Shut up and let's go," she says, getting up and dragging him to the upstairs bathroom. It smells overwhelmingly like lemon fresh pine Clorox and she couldn't be more thankful for it.

"I feel like you should listen to _Drop It Like It's Hot_ while I do this," he says as he starts unbuttoning his jeans. "Keeping with that theme and everything you know."

Her hands grazes the stretchy material of his boxer briefs; this is the unsexiest situation she's ever been in and yet… her heart starts racing (against her better judgement). "Shut your mouth before I shut it for you."

"So violent," he chuckles. "Maybe a little Salt-N-Pepa's _Push It_? I feel like that's more your style."

She yanks on his wrist. "I will punch you clean in the mouth if you don't stop talking right now."

He wiggles his eyebrows. "Sas-sy!"

She turns around quickly when he starts to lower his underwear and blasts the music to inhuman levels. Soft Cell sings their heads off about running away, getting away, and tainted love, and Tessa feels that deep in her soul as she closes her eyes and focuses on the music. 

When she opens her eyes again she's being led to the sink and watches as he washes his hands, removing one ear bud. "Safe?"

"You and your 80s music," he laughs.

"It spoke to me," she snorts.

"I'm happy I didn't scar you for life. Come on, let's go home."

Once they get back to Tessa's house, they feel like the day is one million hours long. Getting out of their clothes is a struggle that leaves disaster in its wake in the form of ripped and stretched out clothes.

"My cashmere will never be the same," she sighs, looking down at the pile.

"Good thing I bought you a new one for Christmas."

"Spoiler alert!"

"You saw the receipt in my skating bag, I know you did and I also know your fake surprised face so the gig would have been up tomorrow."

She giggles, looks up at him, and suddenly realizes that they're both in their underwear. "Fair point," she clears her throat.

Her breath hitches as he gasps, coming to the same realization. It's been a long time since they've seen each other half naked like this. "Look at that," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand."Your bra does match."

She looks down, tips of her ears turning pink. "Yeah… I was feeling festive." 

"It certainly is… that," he says, his mouth dry. He can't stop looking at her body. Her bra and her panties hug her precisely in the right way and it's making it hard for him to think clearly.

"I need to remove my makeup and wash my face," she tells him, leading the way to the bathroom. 

He sits on the edge of the bathtub as he watches her do her evening routine one handed, his eyes glued to her ass that jiggles every time she moves. He can map every freckle adorning her skin like small constellations; it's a game he's played before.

She almost puts moisturizer in her eyes when she feels his finger stroke the back of her thigh, tracing a triangle on her skin. "What are you doing?" she asks, turning to face him. 

"I'm sorry," he shrugs. "I'm bored," he explains as he keeps on caressing her. "And I can play connect the dots with you."

She swallows with difficulty. "I'm almost done."

"I thought about this," he says, fingers inching lower to the back of her knee.

"About what?" she stammers, recapping her night cream a little more forcefully than necessary.

He raises his eyes to look at her. "I don't think we'll be able to get into our PJs without bending ourselves into pretzels. You don't mind if we sleep in our underwear, do you?" 

"Um…I can't sleep with my bra on," she points out.

"You don't have those wire thingies though," he says, sliding a finger underneath the band of her bralette and fingering the lace there.

"Stop that!" she says, patting his hand away. "It's still uncomfortable even without an underwire, but you wouldn't know about that. No boobs, no opinion."

He smirks. "Well, in that case, Virtch, should you really have an…" 

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you," she cuts him off. "You have to sleep next to me, you wouldn't want my knee to end up somewhere…painful," she says slyly. 

He grins and makes a motion like he's zipping his mouth shut. "So, what do we do about this thing?"

She sighs. "I'll just cut up the straps of one my old tank top, throw it on and knot them. It's okay."

"You're nothing if not crafty," he jokes. "Come on, off to bed." He swats her ass gently.

It takes them half an hour to find a position they're both comfortable in — it ends up being with both of them on their backs, their hands laying nicely in the middle.

"Hey, Tess?" he asks once the room is shrouded in darkness.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for doing this thing today. I know you were completely over it and done with me," he says, holding her hand and lacing their fingers together.

"It wasn't that bad," she reassures him.

"I had fun," he adds. "I really needed that today."

"I know," she says, stroking his palm with her pinky. "It took your mind off things and I promise, it was kind of fun. You know I always like spending time with you."

"Yeah, so do I. You're my favorite person," he says softly, kissing the top of her hair.

She smiles. "You're my favorite person too," she replies. "Even if we had to go to the bathroom together."

He laughs and grips her fingers tighter. "I feel like I'm in a sarcophagus," he says after having stared at the ceiling for a few minutes.

"I feel like Wednesday Addams," she agrees with a sigh. "Come on, let's just close our eyes, relax, and we'll be asleep in no time."

She wakes up a few hours later, feeling too hot, his body completely entangled with hers — spooning her in fact — and the pain in her wrist almost unbearable. "Scott," she whispers, stroking his thigh that slid in between hers during their sleep. It only makes him press his hips closer against hers.

She hears him grumble nonsensically. She can feel all of him nudged in the cleft of her ass and _all_ of him is hard. "Scott," she whispers a little louder, shaking him as gently as possible.

"Fuck," he grunts, his voice raw. He brings a hand up to rub his face and hits himself in the face with hers at the same time. "Fuck," he curses again before taking note of the way his body is slotted against her. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Tess," he apologizes, putting some distance between them. 

"It's fine," she says softly. "It's not the first time I've felt you hard against me," she jokes, trying to defuse the building tension between them.

"I know it's been a long time since this happened, but still… I'm sorry."

She snorts. "A long time? You think I don't feel you against me during practice?"

He's thankful the darkness surrounding them doesn't let her see his neck and his ears turning bright red. "I hoped you didn't," he groans.

"I do," she laughs fully now. "Wait, what did you mean when you said a long time then?"

"I meant the last time you felt my hard on when I was in a bed with you."

"Oh, I see." 

"A year and a half ago, but who's counting, right?"

"Clearly you are," she laughs. "Hitting a bit of a dry spell there, Moir?"

"Tess…" There's a warning tone in his voice that she loves.

"What? Are you serious? Was that really the last time you had sex? With me in Scotland?"

"Shut up."

"That's cute," she says, bringing a hand to his face, tracing the bridge of his nose with a finger.

"I just don't have the time, okay?" He feels the needs to justify himself. "We've been training like crazy, I'm exhausted all the time and when I go home, I just want to sleep." 

"You're almost thirty," she laughs. "You're an old man now."

"Like _you_ had time for hookups?"

"Only with my trusty vibrator," she giggles.

He gulps. "When was the last time you had sex with someone that wasn't battery operated?"

She's silent for a few seconds. "Scotland," she murmurs, her voice husky. "A year and a half ago."

She can almost see the smirk tugging at his lips. "See," he says. "We're both too exhausted."

"Speak for yourself," she laughs. "I have plenty of stamina. I just don't want to bother with meeting new people or hooking up with old ones. I'm happy…dancing with myself."

He slaps her ass. "Oh, I have plenty of stamina too," he rasps.

"Do you now?" she asks coyly.

He presses himself closer to her, letting her feel his hardness. "Is that a challenge I hear?" he asks, running a hand down from her hip to the back of her knee.

She wiggles against him, pushing her ass into him, and letting the silky material of her panties rub against his boxers. "Perhaps," she teases.

"You look like the best Christmas present and I want to unwrap you so badly," he whispers, stroking every inch of skin available to him — her thigh, her hip, her abdomen. 

"Yes," she whispers back, feeling him grind against her. "Please." 

"Is your wrist okay?" he asks, rubbing it softly under the cuff. 

"I can't feel anything except how wet I am right now," she says candidly, taking his hand and guiding it to her panties.

He groans roughly. "Get on your back," he orders.

She rolls over and he hovers over her for a few seconds before ripping the tank top off of her and attaching his mouth to her nipples.

"Fuck," she moans, delving a hand in his deliciously flowy hair and fisting it roughly.

"Is that okay?" he checks in with her, sucking both her nipples into rosy red peaks.

"Suck my clit," she says, pushing his head down her body, fingernails digging into his scalp and scratching softly.

"I love it when you get all bossy with me," he laughs as he rids her of her panties and buries his head between her thighs.

She's already wet and sloppy when he starts lapping at her while pushing two fingers inside of her. Her reaction is instantaneous and he can barely keep up an even rhythm with her hips bucking this roughly into his mouth and hand. He's never been this turned on and he can't help but rut against the mattress to get some kind of relief.

"Right there," she moans as he hits a particularly sweet spot. "Fuck, that feels so fucking good."

He licks her faster and curls his fingers even deeper inside her as she keens, her whole body moving for him. "You're so responsive," he moans against her.

"You're so fucking good at that," she groans.

"I could eat you out for hours," he confesses, removing his fingers and plunging his tongue inside of her. "You taste like Christmas," he says after a few minutes, dragging his tongue back up her slit and focusing on her clit again.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," she groans, one hand grasping his hair and tugging it and the other intertwining with his own handcuffed hand.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, babe," he grunts. "You're gonna gush everywhere and soak the bed once I'm done with you," he says against her, mouth still fastened to her clit as he pumps three fingers inside of her, her spine arching up to meet him.

"Come up here," she says, stroking the nape of his neck. "I wanna suck your cock."

"Fuck, Tess," he growls as he moves up slowly and kneels beside her head until he can feel her warm moist breath against him.

She rubs a hand between her thighs so it's all nice and wet with her arousal, wraps it around his dick, and pumps him a few times before guiding him to her mouth, their tastes mixing together on her tongue. She sucks him deep and hard, coating him with saliva as he keeps himself from fucking her face too roughly. He can't help the roll of his hips when her mouth plays with his tip, sucking it up against her tongue, and rubbing it against the soft tissue of the inside of her cheek.

"I could suck you off for hours," she repeats back to him and he can see her sly little smile in his mind's eye.

"Please don't, I'm going to come so fucking fast if you keep doing this," he pleads as he tries to slow her down, stroking her hair softly. 

She rolls onto her side and wiggles her ass. "Enough foreplay," she says. "Fuck me."

"You're going to be the death of me," he groans. "Hand me a condom."

"I don't have any," she says, hand going back to his cock and stroking him gently.

"You can't be serious right now," he cries out.

"I am and I don't care. I know you're clean and so am I. Thank you B2Ten," she laughs.

He sighs deeply. "Fuck it."

He slides in behind her, parts her thighs, and pushes into her gently to let her get used to his length. The first thrust is always the best and his whole body shivers as he feels her walls hugging and flitting around him.

"You feel so fucking good," he moans. "Fuck!"

"You feel so fucking good too," she moans back, pushing her ass back into it. "Come on, faster. Fuck me harder."

He doesn't need to be told twice and he lets familiarity take over as he slams into her over and over again, his body remembering hers in every way they move. This feels so deep and so close, he's not sure he's going to last long. They're slick with sweat and with their combined juices — it pools between their bodies, making wet obscene sounds as he keeps on fucking her relentlessly. He snakes their handcuffed hands between her thighs to find her clit. 

"You're gonna have to work with me here," he whispers hotly in her ear.

"Teamwork makes the dream work," she smiles, both their fingers rubbing her clit as his thrusts become more and more erratic.

"Come on baby," he murmurs.

They work their fingers against her, together, in perfect synchronicity as he keeps on pushing and pushing deeper into her until he feels her contract and flutter around him, her whole body seizing and curling up.

"I've got you," he whispers, gripping her hip and thrusting once, twice, thrice, and then exploding inside of her, coating her walls with his thick cum. It seems endless and like he can't stop coming — they're making a mess of her perfect white sheets.

She feels him flops against her and his mouth and tongue wander on her jaw, the back of her neck, and her shoulder blades. "I love feeling you come inside of me and then feeling you slowly drip out," she whispers, leaning into his kisses.

"I love you," he whispers sleepily, entirely spent as he tugs her body even closer to his, burying his nose into the crook of her neck, her sweet smell lulling him.

"I love you too," she whispers back, letting sleep overtake her.

*

Even as she starts to remember last night as she wakes up slowly from her slumber, Tessa still has no idea how things could have gotten this out of control. This was supposed to be a bet, only a bet…and now it feels like everything has changed.

She sits up slowly, rubbing the sleep from eyes, and looking at the raw and reddened skin of her wrist. She takes the key sitting on her nightstand and gently unlocks the cuffs.

"Tess?" Scott asks, slowly awakening as she strokes his wrist. "Whatcha doing?"

"It's ten," she smiles softly. "Since you did the honors yesterday, I thought I should be the one to break us free. I'm letting you go."

He hears the handcuffs drop on the floor with a quiet thud. "Don't ever let me go," he says, cupping her face with his hand, pulling her close, and pressing his mouth against hers.

"Merry Christmas, Scott," she whispers against his lips.

"Merry Christmas, Tess," he whispers back, deepening their kiss.

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> Fiction allows us to believe that fairytales can be real and that this little extra spark of fate and magic exist in the world. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this one. Kudos and comments are love. 
> 
> Find me at  east-from-eden  on Tumblr and  East_from_Eden  on Twitter if you ever want to come yell at me or chat.


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